Logie o' Buchan

O Logie o' Buchan, O Logie the laird,

They ha'e ta'en awa' Jamie, that delved in the yard,

Wha play'd on the pipe, and the viol sae sma';

They ha'e ta'en awa' Jamie, the flower o' them a'.

He said, Think na lang lassie, tho' I gang awa';

He said, Think na lang lassie, tho' I gang awa';

For simmer is coming, cauld winter's awa',

And I'll come and see thee in spite o' them a'.

Tho' Sandy has ousan, has gear, and has kye;

A house and a hadden, and siller forbye:

Yet I'd tak' mine ain lad, wi' his staff in his hand,

Before I'd ha'e him, wi' the houses and land.

He said, Think nae lang, &c.

My daddie looks sulky, my minnie looks sour,

They frown upon Jamie because he is poor:

Tho' I lo'e them as weel as a daughter should do,

They're nae hauf sae dear to me, Jamie, as you.

He said, Think nae lang, &c.

I sit on my creepie, I spin at my wheel,

And think on the laddie that lo'ed me sae weel;

He had but ae saxpence, he brak it in twa,

And gi'ed me the hauf o't when he gade awa'.

Then haste ye back, Jamie, and bide na awa',

Then haste ye back, Jamie, and bide na awa',

The simmer is coming, cauld winter's awa',

And ye'll come and see me in spite o' them a'.